


You Better Keep Your Promise

by TreatyWrites



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Gun Violence, Hurt Dick Grayson, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24922270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreatyWrites/pseuds/TreatyWrites
Summary: Jason asked Dick for help on a job, and sure he'd had his fair share of jobs gone wrong. But this...he never excpected it to get this bad.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Wally West
Comments: 1
Kudos: 192





	You Better Keep Your Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and thank you for reading my fic. As a writer I like to give you, the reader, a completed version of said story, so what you see is the completed entirety of this work. I do take requests so if you have any stories you'd like to see written then feel free to comment below, I also take constructive criticism. if you want more DC fics featuring the Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne, feel free to check out my other works. Once again thank you for reading this fic and I hope you have a wonderful morning, afternoon, and/or evening.

Jason wouldn’t lie, the mission had been a bit of a shit show. A shit show that he had dragged Dick to, insisting it would turn out alright. At first it had been smooth, nothing bad had happened, they’d stuck to the shadows and got the information they needed, but Jason had stepped on a rotten board sending them both crashing to the ground. It had hurt like hell and the reaction of the men they were stalking was even worse. 

In a matter of seconds bullets were flying everywhere and he and Nightwing were scrambling for cover under the crater boxes. He’d come up with a plan then, a daring and risky plan that had only been pulled off because Dick took a sacrificial lunge at the man in charge. He had the biggest gun of them all, and Dick, being the sacrificial idiot that he had, lunged right at him.  
And a bullet sure as hell hit him in the process, but by then the bombs were going off and Jason was dragging his older brother out of there, both of them now perched on the roof tops breathless. 

“What the hell were you thinking Dickhead,” he swore looking at the flames, “lunging at a guy like that? You could have been killed!”

“Y-yeah,” Dick said shakily clearly out of breath, “but I wasn’t,” he said happily smiling at him with that careless smile. 

He narrowed his eyes and with a long sigh helped him up, “are you hurt?” He looked at the wound, it was dark but Jason thought he could see it well enough, “nah, it’s only a scratch,” he said before Dick could even answer. 

The two of them proceeded to swing through the rooftops of Gotham, Jason still scolding Dick, telling him of the thousand scenarios that could have happened, “great, just great,” he scowled looking at Dick who had been strangely quiet, “now you’ve got me sounding like Bruce!”

Dick laughed, “you said it not me!”

He swore, and they landed on a rooftop, talking the rest of the journey on foot because it was easier to yell and swear that way, plus it bought him time because he didn’t want to see Bruce right now. As he continued talking the lack of talking was seriously starting to concern him. He turned around and let out a very dramatic sigh. 

Dick was looking oddly pale, he didn’t understand why, maybe he was in shock or something, but he noticed his hand was clutched over the wound from earlier. He shook his head and did the childish thing Bruce had done to them when they had first started out on patrol, and he couldn't even believe he was saying this, “Alright Dickhead, rate your pain on a scale of one to ten.” 

For a moment dick was silent leaning against the legs of a nearby water tower. Weakly he heard it, Dick’s voice so small he was barely sure he even heard it, “t-ten.” 

He raised an eyebrow and took his helmet off and walked over to him, barley looking at the wound as he spoke, instead giving Dick his amused gaze, “how on Earth can it be a ten you were barley-” 

He looked at the wound again, and his heart dropped, “o-oh.” Dick’s side was completely torn open, there was literally a gash stretching up from where the bullet wound started, he didn’t notice it before because Dick’s suit had been so soaked in blood it had stuck to his skin. He never even got to say another word before Dick collapsed, hissing in pain. He caught him and began to panic, immediately using his emergency signal. His pride be damned now, Dick wasn’t going to make the trip back on foot. 

“Shit why didn’t you say anything sooner,” he said panicking, becoming horrifically aware of the blood pooling onto the roof. 

Dick looked at him weakly about to say something before coughing up blood, it ran down his chin, and in the dark it looked like ink. It began to pool around both of them and Jason tried his best to stop the bleeding pulling out emergency bandages that immediately became soaked. 

“Stay with me,” he choked, the blood becoming overwhelming, why was this happening now!? But he could already feel Dick’s body going limp in his arms, “Dick stay with me,” he yelled again, “you gotta stay awake.” 

“M’tryn-” his brother rasped, more blood coming from his mouth, “ts’hard.” 

“I know,” he said, feeling himself getting choked up, where the hell was Bruce, he thought screaming in his head, the bandages were worthless now, so he resorted to his jacket pressing on the gash with all his might. He even swore he could see some bone. 

“Not gonna make it-” Dick said to him and he could see the tears on his brother’s cheeks and Jason hated that he felt his own tears building up. He pressed tighter, “you are, because what am I going to tell Damian or Timothy,” he said, trying to keep Dick awake, give him a reason to hold on, “how the hell am I going to tell West or Alfred!? Dick you have brother’s at home that are waiting for you, your fiance, you have friends that expect to see you tomorrow. You hang on, Bruce is coming-” 

“M’sorry,” Dick cried, his chest beginning to rise and fall more rapidly, “Jay I’m sorry.” 

And he grew limp and Jason wasn’t having it, he refused to let Dick go out like this. He yanked out a needle and thread and began to patch that wound up quickly. Just enough so the bleeding wasn’t bad, but there was internal bleeding he had to get to Alfred, no screw that, a doctor. There was a hospital not far from here and he wasn’t going to let Dick die. 

So he ran, he carried Dick and he tore through that city, checking for a pulse every few seconds, that slow sluggish pulse that was the only thing keeping him going. He crashed through the hospital doors and the nurse on duty screamed, a doctor stopping dead in his tracks. The scene he could imagine was probably quite a startling one, but he didn’t have time to think about that. 

“Please,” he begged, the doctor looking at the both of them, “help him.” 

And he was surprised at how quickly Dick’s body was taken from him and put on a stretcher, he didn’t know where his brother was going, he didn’t care really, but he knew he was going to get help. The moment he saw dick go through those doors a cold horror struck him, he had no control over this. A nurse led him to a waiting room, events like this had happened pretty frequently back in the day, emergency surgeries that couldn’t be performed alone. 

Jason recognized this hospital, one of the only good ones left in Gotham, for him and the Bat crew that was. They respected the mask, stitched them up and got rid of the evidence, helped them get in and out, he’d kept tabs on the doctors here, no one new came in and no one he knew had ever left...yet. 

Now all Jason had to do was wait, and the longer he waited the worse it got because this goddamn mess had been his fault. He looked at the blood on him, it was dried and in his pocket he still had the bloody bandages. He bit his lip and tried not to cry. Batman came storming in moments later. 

“Red Hood what-” 

He couldn’t speak now, Jason was going to cry, hell the tears were already falling, he looked at Bruce and shook his head, “i-it was my fault,” he said, voice shaky as he looked at him, “I should have watched my step I-I’m sorry.” 

Bruce was going to lose his Golden Boy because of him, Tim, Damian, Alfred, the Young Justice Team, all those people that Dick worked with, they were all going to lose him. Because he’d been an idiot. He sobbed harder and tried to breath but he couldn’t, fuck, fuck! Not right now, not in front of Bruce. He sobbed again, and harder, unable to control the wave of emotion and guilt he was feeling. 

He expected Bruce to scream at him, yell at him for being irresponsible, tell him that he screwed up, that he was a disgrace. But instead he felt him place a glove on his shoulder. Not violently, but the way he’d done when he’d been a kid and was having moments like this. And before he knew it he was in a hug. Batman and Red Hood hugging-no- even though they had the masks on right now it was Jason Todd and Bruce Wayne, to them anyway. He grabbed onto Bruce and sobbed defeatedly into his shoulder. Letting himself work out the tension. 

Eventually he calmed down enough to explain to Bruce what had happened. There were still details that he didn’t understand and he might never understand them. But not once did he yell or fight with him. Just Looked forward with a grim expression. He didn’t know why, but what he didn’t expect was for Bruce to sit next to him the entire time as they waited. 

Two hours turned into four, and four turned into eight, eight turned to sixteen, and then Jason saw the doctor come in. He couldn’t tell because of the mask on his face, and his body language was as stoic as ever. Dr. Pierce pulled down his mask and looked at the two of them, “he’s in bad condition, but he’s alive.” 

Jason had never been so happy in his life. He let out a relieved shaky sigh and tried not to cry all over again.

The doctor looked at him, “those stitches you made, far from sanitary and you could have damaged something, but you saved his life Red Hood.” 

He didn’t smile, he was just too goddamn relieved. Bruce stood up and began talking to the doctor, probably about protocols and something like that. The nurse after a while led him to Dick’s room. He was resting and had several tubes sticking out of him, but Dick was okay. He took a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair. 

Hours later Tim and Damian showed up, in uniform, both quiet and panicked but he told them what the doctor had relayed to him. He left out how close Dick was to actually dying, trying to paint the story as a close one, but not too close. Damian nodded, and Tim had that look that told him they’d discuss it later. Wally was in hours later, and that’s how it was for a while. People coming in and out to see with their own eyes that Nightwing was okay. People came and went but Jason stayed. He watched that heart monitor like a hawk, and barely slept when he was there. 

Eventually Bruce came in, a drink and food, “when’s the last time-”

“I don’t need it,” he grumbled, leaning back into the chair slightly, “I’m fine.” 

“Jay-”

“B-” he said exasperated, but Bruce shoved the sustenance in his hands. His stomach growled at the junk food so with a defeated sigh he ate it. And he saw Bruce looking up at him. He looked at what had caught his eyes and realized that there was still a hell of a lot of blood on him.  
Maybe he should change or something. 

“Go home, sleep and shower, he’ll be here when you get back,” Bruce assured him. He looked at the old man skeptical but nodded, “if anything happens to him-”

“It won’t,” Bruce assured him. 

With a weary sigh he left. First thing he did was hit the shower, clean up, shave. And only the Lord knew how long he slept. The moment he’d hit his bed he’s absolutely passed out. A day later he was back to the hospital dressed in a clean costume, completely free of blood. When he entered the room he nearly had a heart attack all over again. 

Dick was staring at him, his eyes barely open, but he would recognize those clear water blues anywhere, “shit.” He breathed, a new kind of relief washing over him. 

“Good to see you two Little Wing,” Dick rasped, a small and weary smile on his face. 

Immediately he rushed to hug dick, careful not to hurt him, or break anything. New tears rolled down his face, dame his older brother, tugging at his emotions, he swore this would never happen again, ‘don’t you ever scare me like that again,” he said squeezing Dick a little tighter.

He felt arms around him, weakly returning the hug, he heard Dick’s voice clear as day, weak and shaky, “I promise.” 

He pulled away and looked at Dick, shaking his head at his tears, they both were emotional bastards, he poked Dick in the chest lightly, smiling for the first time in days, “and you better keep your damn promise.”


End file.
